


Pie in the Empty Sky

by IAmNoMant



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, DeanCas - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Time Travel Fix-It, Unbury Your Gays, raise your gays from perdition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:07:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27944291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmNoMant/pseuds/IAmNoMant
Summary: In the Empty, Cas notices someone's heart beat is missing-- that wasn't the deal. If he saved him, then he had to stay saved. Now Cas must wake up and fix what shouldn't have been broken. And-- and he has to deal with whatever happens after you say I love you.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 106





	Pie in the Empty Sky

**Author's Note:**

> After a decade of watching, it took that craptastic finale to force me into writing fanfiction and I joined Ao3 only to publish this-- there was a waiting line, I presume all Destiel creators. In the harrowing hours after 11/19 I blindly wrote the following fix it fic, from Castiel's perspective in the empty, until 4 in the morning. Episode 20 supposedly exists, but like all poorly writing scripts, it could use a script doctor and I fixed it. Is it good? Probably not, but it's better than what we got.  
> This has not been edited, will not be edited, and there are no apologies. No beta, just rage.  
> Unbury your gays.  
> Happily ever after is the only ending allowed.

Prologue

It starts in darkness.

Wasn’t he in light-- before?

There was someone. 

He was with someone-- so light, so free-- and then--

Something grabbed him?

Everything around him comes into focus-- dark fading. He’s sitting on a bench-- his internal monologue echoes in his mind-- he lied to Dean? Why would he lie to Dean? When is this?

He’s asking god if he’s doing the right thing on this bench, shouldn’t he be asking Dean? All god does is give you a length of rope to hang yourself with.

“I’m superman,” he said. Dean’s face when he said that-- his people’s skills are rusty… but that look. It should have told him something. Dean had known. 

It’s so dark. 

He’s alone.

Why is he remembering this-- it was years ago. Dean forgave him. They were-- Dean said brothers, but-- that never felt right to Cas. Brothers feels... different. The other angels were his brothers in arms-- he never went to get them pie.

There hadn’t been pie-- he had tried to get Dean pie and it was gone. All of the pie was gone. 

He had tried to be a human-- alone, without Dean and Dean had showed up-- there in front of him, asking about him. 

It’s so dark and cold here.

Everything is pushing at him, prodding, pulling-- pinching-- picking--- pain-- so much-- so much pain. He thought the empty would feel more-- empty. 

There was something beautiful and light-- he remembers, near the end. He had-- he had said something. Then the darkness, pulling him in and dragging him down. 

Wouldn’t he hear Dean if Dean needed him?

He remembers now, he said-- “I love you--” the empty came and grabbed him-- caressed him-- pulled him away. And Dean’s eyes-- tears.

He saved him.

That’s the light.

He saved him-- and now Dean will live on, a family-- a dog, happily ever after.

If that is what Dean gets--- then it will be enough. 

It will be worth it.

Chapter 1

It was not enough.

The longer he is here-- the clearer everything gets. Years of popping in-- out-- “Hello Dean,” sometimes a nod to Sam. A furrowed brow, concern, rising tension-- eye contact. A brush of an arm. A lingering look-- a thousand moments where he could have said it. 

But-- his people skills were rusty.

But-- a family-- a dog, happily ever after. If Dean gets that-- it will be enough.

The empty is less dark now-- Cas has found a way to look down. 

Below his feet he sees Sam-- a dog--

Just Sam and a dog?

Sometimes they hunt apart. He knows this-- he’s seen this. They get in a fight about something, someone’s feelings get hurt. They split up. 

Dean in the ‘67 Chevy Impala.

Sam in a beater.

But this time-- 

Sam is in the ‘67 Chevy Impala-- with the dog?

But why? Sam always messes it up-- he adds things-- the music player, extra things in the trunk-- he doesn’t know how to keep it clean. No matter how many hunts he goes on-- he’s always following his big brother.

The big brother who loves greater than anyone else. 

His love is light.

Cas’s vision fades-- he can only keep it up for short periods of time. Seeing down into the below-- it’s taxing and when he does it, it leaves him weak. 

And he fades-- time passes, he loses track. Darkness. Empty. Pain. Memory.

The next time he remembers-- himself-- Dean-- the saying of, “I love you,” more time has passed. It’s hard to tell how much here in the darkness.

He glances down again-- the impala is there-- a dog, an old dog. A man-- widow’s peak-- Sam-- graying hair-- some woman-- Cas doesn’t know who she is-- he knows who everyone they know is. 

He should know this woman-- this not Eileen-- why not Eileen?--

Dogs age fast-- he knows that, but it seems too fast. Too gray, too slow, too old.

He’s been alive for a millennia-- but time had slowed down to the beats of Dean’s heart-- every moment a century of his life. 

And now-- time is speeding faster and faster and faster--- a wheel spinning out of control.

He feels for it-- the beat of Dean’s heart-- it’s… punctured.

He said the words-- it pulled him into the empty--

He said the words-- Dean was supposed to live happily ever after.

That was the deal. 

Chapter 2

The light is fading. He is slipping away. He looks for the beat to pull him back, to anchor him. He searches-- like a phone trying to find signal while he “waits there, then.”

He’ll just wait there, then.

But wait for what?-- isn’t this the part past waiting?--

The dog-- the old man-- the dog is gone. The old man is in a chair.

Spinning-- faster.

He-- he needs to find a way to move--- time is running out-- he’s trapped in a thousand Tuesdays.

Pig in a Poke-- no wait, he wasn’t there-- that was a story Dean told. 

Sam-- a thousand Tuesday, each one without Dean, Dean dying horribly, tragically, impossibly. A piano on his head, a nail to his heart--

Wait-- Sam never mentioned a nail to Dean’s heart. 

Maybe he did-- did he?

That would be a funny way to die-- Cas died by a nail to his heart-- metaphorically. Dean would like that-- the metaphor. 

No, he wouldn’t like the metaphor. He would roll his eyes.

Every memory that flies by, drags Cas in-- pain-- takes time, energy, stagnation. 

Cas needs to move-- to get to the man with the deep widow’s peak, the gray hair-- the car.

If he gets there-- he can find out--

What went wrong?

But his body-- Jimmy-- it’s faded, see through. His own arms pass through his own chest and darkness seeps in.

Each moment the heart beat is further away, the time spins on, and Cas fades.

Pig in a poke-- brothers in arms-- there’s something about that. He’s not Dean’s brother-- but he had brothers? 

One brother bended the world around him-- giving deserts.

Dean loves pie-- he forgot to get pie.

Sweet tooth-- 

Gabriel--

He closes his eyes, reaches out with this mind-- turns on angel radio-- yells into the void--

Into the empty--

GABRIEL.

He’ll just wait here, then. 

Chapter 3

The man is still there when he peers down. He worries the beats will pass too quickly and he’ll glance down and every piece of his heart will be gone-- even the tangential pieces.

His heart, it isn’t in his body. It’s punctured. Gone. 

Someone was going to help-- Cas remembers that-- he called for someone-- begged someone-- someone older, wiser, stronger-- who always ended up safe. Putting himself numero uno. Cas always admired that-- when it wasn’t getting Dean hurt. 

He would help--

Maybe?

There’s a pop behind him, Cas tries to turn, but he’s too insubstantial-- too empty. 

“Wow-- they really got you didn’t they buddy--”

“Gabriel-- why--”

“You called, I answered,” he shudders, “this place gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Please--”

“He was the death of you, wasn’t he. And you want back? You want me to send you back.” He laughs at you. “-- you think I should help you? What’s in it for me buckaroo?”

“Please--”

“I’m not into this cosmic-- whatever palooza you three always do-- it’s just-- trite, at this point. Can’t you just-- let it go?”

Cas still can’t see him-- off his shoulder. Is he the angel or the devil on his shoulder-- that’s a thing Dean showed him-- cartoons. The little angel-- the little devil-- the choice-- the free will. But free will brings peace-- this is agony--

“Please--”

“God-- Cas. Stop being so pathetic.” Gabriel steps in front of him, all there, no faded pieces-- hair in place, clothes unwrinkled, a lollipop in his hand-- he rolls his eyes. “Even here you can’t-- just let it go?”

Cas feels himself fade further-- sinking back into it-- he reaches out his hand-- touches Gabriel’s arm-- he touches him-- a spark-- a feeling-- waking up-- 

“Please Gabriel-- I must-- he deserved happiness.’

Gabriel pauses-- "how was he supposed to get that when you did this?"-- Cas has no answer. Gabriel looks him in the eyes, "fine.”

Castiel falls-- through the air-- towards the ground. Hitting-- sharp. Pain. He tries to fix himself-- heal it-- it throbs-- a little bit better.

He's not quite graceless-- just low on juice?

What’s today?-- it is Thursday?

He’s landed amidst trees, splayed out around him, fallen out-- a circle-- he remembers something like this-- Illinois. A convenience store-- he gripped him tight and raised him from perdition-- and now.

Puncture-- beating heart-- he feels it. The beat is still here-- still alive-- the centuries of his life pumping in another's chest. 

Gabriel has given him back time-- time to try to save him.

One. Last. Time. 

Chapter 4

Cas doesn’t know who to call, who will help-- whose number does he even remember? Cas can’t call him...

He stops in a convenience store-- it’s open. The newspaper-- there’s still newspaper here-- says Wednesday November 18. 

There’s a book in a rack-- a romance novel-- the person on the cover-- is it Sam? Would Sam have posed for this--

The author--

Becky?-- Becky Rosen?

He flips to the end-- 

'They lived happily ever after.'

That sounds-- nice-- an ending worth a hero's journey. They were heroic-- coins of destiny-- two peas in a pod-- 

Cas is wasting time. Every beat is precious.

He knows her number, he realizes. Becky. He finds a payphone. He didn’t know they had them anymore either. He borrows change-- it’s awkward to ask-- the first three people didn’t have any change. He thinks they may have lied but he can’t tell-- still low on angel juice. 

He’s not in Illinois-- he’s in Lisbon, Wisconsin. That also feels right- Far away and right in their back door. 

He calls. No one answers. He calls again. Again. Again. Again--

A man’s voice-- he asks for Becky. 

She’s on the phone. 

“I’m in Wisconsin. I need a ride.”

She picks him up. She keeps looking at him. She opens her mouth, closes it. Her hands are at 9 and 3, that’s the place they should be. He thinks about commenting-- but stares ahead. If he says something, she’ll start asking-- and he’ll have to have an answer.

He supposes telling her he’s from the future isn’t the weirdest thing he’s told someone. He told green eyes that he loved him-- wrapped in darkness, pulled in. Dragged down. 

She looks at him, “why didn’t you call him?”

Cas knows which him she’s talking about. She should really look back at the road.

He said what he said knowing they would never see each other ever again.

Cas knows that. Cas said it knowing-- he would be pulled in, there would be no awkward silence-- rejection-- acceptance-- love. 

He wouldn’t have to figure out how to do all of that.

Saying I love you, after millennia, that was new enough-- but the rest is--

Messy. 

“He’s-- busy.”

She keeps glancing at him and opening her mouth--

“I read your book,” he says holding it up. “I liked the end.”

A smile breaks across her face, “I based it on you-- you and Dean and Sam. Your love-- bravery-- sacrifice-- only up until a point of course, I didn’t know how it would all end--” she looks at him expectedly.

“I didn’t like my ending,” he says. 

They ride in silence. 

Chapter 5

The easiest way to find Dean would be to call him. But Cas goes to the town instead-- doesn’t call, doesn’t go to the bunker. Dean’s running out of heart beats-- they last a century, but a century is so short. 

Cas sits at the diner with Becky. She stares at him. He thinks about complimenting her book again, but he only read the ending. And even Becky might realize it if they discussed it more. 

The waitress brings over his bacon cheeseburger-- “you want pie sweetie-- or is it only your boyfriend who likes pie?”

Cas clears his throat-- awkward-- and roughly says, “no.”

“Oh,” she says, “I’m sorry-- I didn’t know you too had--”

“No-- I don’t want pie-- Dean is-- fine.”

“Right...” she says, staring a little bit too long, and then walks away.

Becky stares more, “perhaps you could call him--” she opens her eyes wider, “he really thinks you died?” she asks for the 18th time since Cas accidentally let that slip in the car--

“Not died-- went to the empty--”

“So like, super died. In like-- mega hell? And-- you’re going to let him continue to think that?”

“It’s-- complicated--”

“He thinks you died... and are in hell--”

“-- yes-- well,” Cas clears his throat, “I hadn’t figured out the after part.”

“The after part?”

“The hand holding-- emotions-- talking about things. Mostly, I just-- left-- when things got complicated. I popped out--”

“The after part-- it’s just-- it’s just not popping out, you know that right?”

“Right-- but-- I don’t know how to do that.”

“It starts by calling.”

Cas puts his hands on the table, folds them on each other, switches them, switches them back. His burger is getting cold. He has water, he takes a sip--

“I could call him for you-- I don’t have to tell him, but, Cas-- you know that you know that you have to tell him you’re back. Whatever he says-- isn’t it better to know? The telling-- that’s important, but the listening, that’s just as important. And then-- whatever comes, you just don’t pop out. That’s it. It’s not more complicated.”

“Would you?”

“Would I call?”

“Yes.”

Chapter 6

She takes the call outside-- Cas asks her too-- he can’t, just wait here then, while she talks to him. She comes back-- “they’re in Ohio-- something about mimes, or vampires, or something?”

“Ohio--?” 

Anna was in Ohio-- and Dean and Anna-- and Cas watching-- he didn’t know what he felt then. It was weird. He felt uncomfortable, intrusive, he didn’t know angels could want-- whatever this was. 

It is weird that he wished himself to be Anna-- in so many small tiny moments-- he had wished himself into a different body with different parts-- so that-- so that--

But he doesn’t now. Jimmy gave him this body, sacrificed for him, he is this body. He loves Dean in this body.

Becky offers to drive him to Ohio without him asking. He’s glad. He doesn’t know if he could have asked. It would be a long way to hitchhike.

The car ride is awkward. Becky keeps mentioning calling Dean-- telling Dean-- Speaking. To. Dean. 

He’s not ready, he tells her. 

She’s silent for a half hour, then it repeats. It starts with her opening and closing her mouth, glancing over, glancing back to the road.

She really looks away from the road far too much-- he almost tells her that. But then-- it would open up more questions.

“What was it like-- the empty?” she asks.

He feels relief that she asked about this-- and not about-- calling, again.

“Empty--” he says.

She snorts, “jeez Cas- I knew that.”

“It’s hard to describe-- I was there-- but gone. Everything happened fast. I slept for much of it-- it was dark--”

“Did it hurt?”

The silence in the car gets awkward again. She’s glancing more now. He opens her book to the beginning and starts to read. He’s not sure how this is about him and Sam and Dean. There are two butlers-- they show up on the second page. The main character, Samriel, seems to rely on the butlers-- alot. There’s a spinster neighbor who is very invested in their lives-- her name is-- Betsy. Cas flips through the pages-- trying to find his story-- 

One butler awkwardly walks out of the room in the middle of conversations-- Cas isn’t sure why Betsy kept this character in-- he doesn’t seem to be a good butler.

The stakes are low-- Samriel has no one to care about, there’s a dog-- that seems right. The butlers end up in jail for a crime they didn’t commit-- 

It’s honestly hard to follow. 

But he still likes the ending. 

Becky is looking at him when he closes it.

“I hope you liked your story--”

“My story?” he asks.

“Didn’t you-- couldn’t you see yourself?” 

“Myself? No--”

Her face drops, “you didn’t-- the butlers, you were one of the butlers. Dean was the other one.”

“Why did Dean walk out of the room all of the time? It didn’t serve a purpose.”

The silence is awkward again. He’s not sure why, he’s never noticed Dean walking away--

“Oh-- but you pop out--”

“Oh--” Cas says-- right, that would be him, “and the time in jail, where we-- you know?”

Her eyes get big and she turns away from the road, “the sex scene-- wasn’t it so elicit-- being in the jail-- so… dirty. I wanted it to be epic. And jail-- it’s like hell, right? So I thought-- it would just be like-- some… dirty--” she smirks at him, “you know--”

Cas isn’t sure he does know-- or he gets the mechanics. But he didn’t-- he couldn’t think of himself in that role. 

He said I loved you.

He died.

That’s what happens--

There isn’t a sex scene in a jail after that--

There’s just the empty.

Chapter 7

They arrive in Canton, it’s small-- the newspaper, they have newspapers too, shows kidnapped children-- they are in the right place. Cas makes Becky stop at the gas station-- they buy matching hats, sweatshirts, aviators-- disguises. Cas leaves his trench coat in the car. 

They go to the crime scene-- no badges, no way to get in-- but Cas feels a little bit-- better.

“We can go in for a minute-- maybe two-- then invisibility will fade--”

Becky’s eyes light up at the word invisible, “you-- we’re going to be invisible?”

Becky is a different kind of partner than Dean-- she gets-- very excited. 

“Yes-- but only for a minute or two--”

Becky nods, and does a small squeal and jump-- Dean never used to do this--

He goes to lay his hand on her left shoulder, then pulls his arm back-- he grabs her hand instead. They go in-- blood spattered on the walls. Crime scene tape--

“They were-- upstairs.”

No one else is in the house. 

“You never said-- why are we following them. If you didn’t want him to know you were back-- why are we following their-- psychic scent or whatever--”

“It’s-- complicated.”

What he means is-- Dean has only so many heartbeats left. Cas doesn’t know when they stop-- but he knows it’s soon. There will be a moment. Soon. Before he wants it to be-- and it will-- stop. Dean’s heart.

So-- they follow them, to catch up to them. He could call him-- but if he calls him then maybe Dean will say-- “don’t follow, don’t come.”

Maybe if he listens to Dean-- maybe the “I love you” won’t mean the same anymore. Maybe how Dean perceives it can taint it.

“Complicated… right…” says Becky.

Cas feels the room-- they were here recently-- they are going after-- he sniffs- vampires. He isn’t sure what mimes would smell like. He has only smelled the kind of mime on sidewalks trying to make money. They mostly smelled like sweat-- dirty-- human-- nothing else, really. These could be mime vampires-- whatever those are.

They leave then-- the two minutes are up. Cas feels-- tired. 

They end up at another diner, someone offers him pie-- again-- maybe it’s a sign. If he still believed in those. 

But signs are just rope for god to hang you with.

The heartbeats are closer-- Cas is catching up. Cas goes to get out of the car-- Becky hasn’t opened her door.

“I don’t know that I’m-- I’m more of a writer than a doer--” Becky says.

Cas looks at her-- not sure what she means.

“I think-- do I need to-- I think maybe-- I should just be writing-- right. Telling the story--"

Cas still isn’t sure what she means. 

“What if-- you just do this part, on your own?”

Oh, Cas realizes she doesn’t want to fight vampires. He nods.

Chapter 8

He follows them to a barn-- they are fighting, like they do-- creatures falling beneath their swords. It’s-- heroic. They are heroes-- Dean is a Hero. 

Cas turns-- this can’t be it-- these foes are easy to beat. Dean has beat people like this a million times. He walks away-- there’s a tree-- an onion field--

A barn.

A tree.

Light-- lamps.

An easily winnable fight-- he sits on a tree stump-- it is just the right height. He’s starting to get cold in his green and blue sweatshirt-- he should have grabbed his trench coat from Becky’s car before she went to the hotel. He hugs himself. Waiting for the fight to be done.

Maybe he came back at the wrong time-- he needs to save Dean from Chuck’s wrath, from Amara’s wrath-- not from some clowns fighting in a barn-- it’s--

Easy.

He gets up, brushes off his pants, and turns to walk back to the hotel-- Becky wouldn’t let him drive her car. 

It was probably a wise decision. 

The darkness is all around him-- it feels, pressing-- again-- like the empty-- but not painful-- not --

He thinks about the butlers, the elicit-- 

He thinks about the butlers-- jail--

He tries to just think about the butler’s lives-- living together in a cozy attic room. Working together-- not-- popping out.

Cas’s chest feels tight. 

Not popping out-- how do you-- you stay. He supposes it’s simple, academically, to just stay. You plant your feet, hold your ground-- and

Well, that’s it, right? 

Becky made it seem so simple. 

Not--

Popping--

Out--

Puncture.

Chapter 9

Cas tries to jump-- his body doesn’t move-- he just stays there, then-- not-- popping out. 

He turns-- he runs-- he’s out of shape-- he’s never run harder-- he’s panting--  
He can hear words-- Dean talking to Sam-- he’s getting closer.

But he’s so far. 

The heartbeats have centuries between them-- but centuries are so short--

Dean is saying, words-- telling Sam to live his life, that he loves him-- freeing him from obligation-- telling him to live-- 

All the things that Cas wanted for Dean.

He runs harder-- he--

Pops out-- and in-- in front of Sam-- shoving him aside. The walls of a barn around him-- light exploding out-- hand on Dean’s left shoulder, pulling him from perdition-- this time a crooked cross-- fingers to his head-- wishing-- giving-- loving-- 

Wishing that a good god would save him-- length of rope, hang yourself-- no-- not god, not Chuck, him. He will save Dean-- this one last time.

He shoves all of the feelings-- the desire for the attic-- the jail-- the elicit-- 

For he so loved the world--

But no-- he won’t rise from the dead-- he won’t die-- Cas will save all of his heartbeats.

“Cas?” Dean asks, “Is it-- really you? You-- you died, for me--” he coughs up blood, “I didn’t want you too--”

“It wasn’t your choice Dean.”

“I know, I just, I didn’t deserve--”

“Be quiet Dean, let me-- let me--”

It’s going dark-- empty-- quiet-- no pain-- what grace has been given to me-- let me pass it to him-- he says in his head to-- to whoever is listening-- fate? Gabriel? The empty? Everything and nothing-- they must save Dean Winchester. It is Cas’s dying wish.

Again.

Chapter 10

It’s bright when he wakes. Not dark. There is a lamp next to his head-- it is bright.  
Is this-- new heaven-- or maybe-- Valhalla? He heard the food was good there-- 

He thought he would go back to the empty, one more time. He lays under the light and tries to see Dean-- but his vision doesn’t clear.

He isn’t in the empty, but he feels weirdly empty-- something, missing. 

He’s felt this way before-- he wore a vest, took care of customers, kept the store clean. It was-- productive. He was valued. 

He was human.

Is he in human heaven?

There is a voice next to his bed, “I’ll have to write a sequel.”

Cas looks over, behind the light, Becky is sitting with a computer on her lap. 

“Did you die too?”

“No, silly, you didn’t-- die-- you just, you know-- almost died. And I guess you kinda died as an angel.”

“Died as an angel? This isn’t where dead angels go.”

“Well-- like metaphorically died. It was very romantic-- you gave up your grace to save him-- it was still very weak, so it wasn’t that good at saving him-- shouldn’t have done the invisibility probably-- but the thought that counts, right?”

“Dean?”

“He’s-- he’s in the hospital. You weren’t strong enough to heal him-- completely-- but you-- you fixed his heart. They said it if it had gone in an inch more it would have punctured it, and he wouldn’t have had a chance-- would have died of a broken heart. He’s in the ICU-- unconscious.”

“Sam?”

“Sam’s with him. When you feel better we can go-- they aren’t allowing non-family members-- but we can just be there.”

“Right.”

Becky leans forward, “did you-- Cas-- did you break out of mega hell to save Dean again? Did you know?”

The silence is awkward.

“Maybe it should be a prequel-- the story of how the butlers get together. I think my readers would find it-- fascinating!”

Cas still doesn’t know what to say, although he does want to read the prequel-- maybe that’s just how it is with Becky-- you never know what to say.

“So-- what’s it like losing your grace, you’ve done it more than once, right?”

“It’s-- uncomfortable.”

Becky nods, leaning further in, “but horribly romantic-- losing your power to save the guy that you love-- what a story.”

Cas shifts, leaning back into the light so it blocks out Becky’s eager eyes and opening and closing mouth. He drifts off again into sleep. 

He’s tired.

More tired than he’s ever been before.

He’s--

He’s scared.

Cas has to be at the hospital, but being at the hospital, well-- then he sees Dean-- then they have to talk about after-- and the not popping out-- the staying right there then. 

Cas sleeps-- and when he wakes, he’s ready. Ready to be at the hospital, whatever comes after-- he doesn’t think he will ever be ready for that. 

Chapter 11

It’s Thursday, the hospital is also very bright, very clean. Cas doesn’t like going to hospitals. There are too many sounds. He sits in a chair that smells vaguely of urine. He tries to move to another chair-- it also smells vaguely of urine. 

An old man stares at him as he moves from chair to chair. Becky is up at the nurse’s station. A bunch of nurses have gathered around her-- 

Does that mean that Dean is--

Is Dean?--

She comes back, “they were fans-- I had to sign some books.”

“Fans?”

“Of my book--”

“Right... And Dean?”

“He’s in surgery-- he’ll be out soon. There were fragments. They are worried about infections, he hadn’t kept up with his shots, but they gave him boosters.”

“He’ll be-- okay? I can’t do anything’--”

“Cas, you’ve done enough-- now we just have to, hope.”

“Hope--”

“Hope.”

Cas tries to hope, to focus on Dean waking up, getting up, reciprocating-- the staying put. 

Time drags on, so slowly, millenia between heartbeats. He's useless now, no angel juice left. Becky brings him a lukewarm coffee, it’s watery-- not very good-- but he sips on it. 

A haggard Sam comes out to the lobby, he sees them and walks over-- “sorry Cas, I should have--”

“It’s alright.”

“No--”

“It’s alright Sam, you had to be with your brother.”

“You should be with him too, Cas.”

Becky sighs.

“Becky,” says Sam with widened eyes, a step back. 

“She brought me here, to Canton--”

“Why did you-- how did you know to find us--”

It would be awkward to explain-- that Sam got gray hair with an old dog and a strange woman. That he had Dean’s car and filled it up with junk. That Dean was--

Missing.

That Cas had to fix it.

“I called Dean,” Becky says, “he told me where you were.”

“He told you where--”

“Oh my god, Sam, I’ve been over this, I am not interested in you anymore,” Becky says. Cas slides Becky’s novel from the table into the pocket of his trench coat-- the photo on the front would give her away.

“Sorry-- I just--”

“It’s fine Samri, it’s fine Sammy,” she says patting his arm.

“Cas, I came out to say, he’s out of surgery, unconscious-- but out. If you want to--”

Cas stands. Becky stays behind, typing on the computer she brought. They reach the nurse’s station.

“Family only, behind this point dearie,” an older black woman says.

“He’s Dean’s husband,” Sam says, without blinking an eye--

Cas loses his breath. 

He didn’t know that was a thing humans could do, literally--

Lose their breath.

Husband--

It’s just a lie said to get him past the nurses-- but it is like the butlers-- something to want. 

When they walk into the room, Dean is hooked up to blinking and flickering machines. Cas wants to lay his hands on him-- to heal him-- but he’s worthless now. Not magic, not an angel-- just empty of grace. Even broken, he was still beautiful; still Dean Winchester.

“Doctor said he might be able to hear you if you want to talk to him--” Sam says, “I’m going to run down and get some caffeine, would you stay with him for a minute.”

“Of course, Sam. I’ll stay right here.”

The blinking lights, beeping machines, and labored breathing echo through the room. 

“The first time I noticed you, was the first time I touched your arm. You were broken-- you had committed horrible acts-- but there was such-- good inside of you. I hadn’t felt something like that ever before. I realized at some point it was love.”

His words flow after that first one, tumbling over each other as he tells Dean every moment and spark-- all of the pieces that led him to understand what love was. That love was in the being-- the hearing-- the receiving-- the living. 

“I thought-- I can say it, I can disappear, and there will be no rejection-- no confusion-- no--”

“No reciprocation?” asks a croaky voice from the bed. “You pulled me from hell-- and you thought what-- that I would reject you and never speak to you-- that I would make you feel bad about who you are-- that you love--” he has a tear trailing down his face, “Cas-- no matter what, after everything, how could you think I would just reject you.”

“You never said--”

“You only said when you knew I couldn’t respond-- you told me to stop when I tried-- you’re a freaking Angel. Why would an angel love an angry drunk like me--”

“You don’t see yourself like I do--”

“Ditto partner.”

Cas sits back-- joy creeping up into him, “so-- what does this mean.”

“This means that with all our mess, that we try Cas-- that we don’t slam the door, let hell take us, or give up when it’s hard.”

“It means we stay right here, then.”

“It means I love you, too.”

Dean pulls on his hand and pulls him down-- and Castiel thinks he could get used to this kind of elicit.

Epilogue

“Everything is peaceful at Butlers Bed and Breakfast in Vermont. Cas is in the kitchen cooking for the guests. Dean is playing guitar in a window sill. A blond little girl, Blue, and twin brunette boys, Mick and Zepp, run through the kitchen. Sam will be by with Eileen later in the day. 

The room is silent except their laughs, and the gentle noise of the guitar. Cas catches Dean’s eyes and smiles. 

So what's it all add up to? It's hard to say. But me, I'd say this was a test... for Cas and Dean. And I think they did all right. Up against, Good, Evil, angels, devils, the Empty, and God himself, they made their own choice. They chose family. And, well... isn't that kinda the whole point? No doubt - endings are hard. But then again... nothing ever really ends, does it? At the end of it all, they were still beautiful; still Castiel and Dean Winchester.”

Becky sits back in her chair, her computer in front of her and a tall glass of rose next to her hand. She picks it up and takes a sip. Sometimes a script doctor is just what a story needs. She sets the glass down, leans back, and disappears.

The End.


End file.
